All was Well
by Whovian.and.Proud
Summary: Bitter. That described her life perfectly. Everything was so bitter, from the news on the television to the food on her plate. "I wonder what would've happened…if you were here." She turned and laid her back against the grave, looking at the evening sky. "All is well." She whispered, tears running down her face. But all wasn't well. Nothing was well.


**All was Well**

**A/N: I have no real idea what this is and I didn't know where it was going…**

**This is an AU where Harry died during the battle, but still won. So this is my AU version of the Epilogue. This is just a oneshot for now, but I've left it open so I can continue if I get any great ideas…**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and all the characters…that's probably just as well... **

The graveyard was empty. And why wouldn't it be? The time for mourning was over, a new era had begun. That was, for all except one lonely girl in this empty graveyard. The only sounds were from her feet, crunching over the autumn leaves. She stopped in front of one particular grave, kneeling in the damp earth. Taking out a small bouquet of lilies, she placed them carefully on the ground. She traced the letters on the gravestone, her head bent, looking as if in prayer. Then she started to talk, her soft words carrying across the field of graves.

"Hello again. It's been awhile, hasn't it? I'm sorry, it's just…" She swallowed her words, eyes diverting from the stone. "I have to make the decision if I should pull the plug. I know I should, I know, but- I…I don't want to." Her voice grew louder, as she pulled her head up. "Why should I have to let her go? You're gone, and she will be too." Putting her head into her hands, she slumped. "I've lost too much. Call me selfish, but I don't care! I just want my mum and dad back!" Pulling herself up, she glared furiously at the grave, her hand in fists. "Hugo's gone. I don't know where…something about rehabilitation? I thought he'd stopped. He promised he'd stop." All the anger drained from her face, leaving bitter despair. "Teddy, remember him? I never see him anymore. Like my dearest _father!_" She spat the word out like a curse. "He's not my real father…you are. He was never my real father." She touched the grave longingly.

"I wonder what would've happened…if you were here." A soft smile lightened her face. "I would've had black hair and brown eyes, and my Uncle wouldn't be dead, and my Auntie wouldn't…" She grew hysterical, choking back tears. "The winners write history, they say. But you did win! You beat him!" She stopped kneeling, now crouching in front of the gravestone, angry tears now pouring down her face. " So why did you lose…why am I told that you were wrong! I don't know what to think anymore! On one hand there's mum's old stories, and then there's what they tell me in school. They say, although Voldemort was blinded, so were you! They say you sought out to further the gap between Non-Magics and Magics! What does that even mean! Why would you do that! I don't believe you would do that! You were Just… Harry! Just…" She sobbed over the grave, her tears falling onto the lilies.

"Oh…your flowers are all wet and muddy. I'm sorry, seems as if I can't do anything right." She gave a hysterical sob and picked them up. "I…can't do this anymore. Why? Why me? Why mum? Why…just…why?" Her tears increased as her voice grew steadily louder. "You know the worst part? Everyone's fine. Magics and Non-Magics living in harmony. All is well… Apart from us." She took her wand out and banished the sodden lilies. She turned and laid her back against the grave, looking at the evening sky. "All is well." She whispered, tears running down her face.

"I miss you, but…would it make any difference? If you were here, I mean." Her gaze rested on the horizon. "Would it be the same?" She closed her eyes, feeling the soft breeze on her face. "I said this world was perfect, or at least near-damn perfect, but-with you in it, would this world exist?" Opening her eyes, she turned her head to the grave she was leaning on. "Which is better, no family in a perfect world, or a family in a corrupt imperfect one?" Facing the lowering sun once more, she smiled bitterly. "Am I selfish to want a proper family, not the shattered one I have now? Would you do the same? I'd like to think you would, but according to mum, you were the most self-sacrificing, noble man she'd ever met. She called you an idiot for it." Frowning, she looked down. "Would you hate me if I said I would do anything to have you, mum, Hugo, Teddy and just… everyone… back? Would you hate me if I said I would let the world burn a hundred times, just to get my family back? You would, wouldn't you? After all, you're…well…you."

She sat in silence for a while, watching the sun fade into the horizon. For a moment, it was quiet, and it was just her and her imagination. She imagined a great big loving family, all with red hair and hand-me-down clothes, like her mum had told her about. She imagined her mum and dad waving her off on the Hogwarts express, and birthdays and holidays that never happened. She snapped out of her reverie, remembering the truth. There was nothing that could bring the dead back to life, nothing. It was unnatural, and in this squeaky-clean world, unnatural was not allowed to exist. Although she knew the truth, the truth that her cousin would never be coming back from rehab, that her _father's_ work was less than _squeaky-clean_, and the cries on the street weren't just her imagination, she told herself that this world was perfect. That everyone couldn't be happier, just to make things easier, just to convince herself that she and her family were the only ones suffering in this _perfect_ world. It made her losses seem worth it, that while she was hanging on by a thread, everyone was happy. Guess she wasn't so selfish after all, she thought bitterly.

Bitter. That described her life perfectly. Everything was so bitter, from the news on the television to the food on her plate. But why did she have to just lie down and take it, why accept it? The truth was—well, she didn't know. She just didn't know anymore. But she knew one thing. She would be damned if she just let her life crash around her. Standing up, looking at the grave, she came to a realization. This gravestone, this piece of rock was her anchor in her failing life. And she had to let go. Fall to the bottom and build her life up again, it was the only way she could live.

"I'm sorry. But I'm going away, and never coming back. Goodbye." With those whispered words, she let go. Turning from the grave, she walked out of the graveyard to a new life in this not-so perfect world. But she would survive, and maybe, in time she would even live. She was a Potter. She survived.

All was well.

**Hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a comment to what you liked, and what I can do better, as constructive criticism keeps me going as a writer!**

**Whovian and Proud **


End file.
